The Lady of Winterfell
by blilymainpriceKing
Summary: A one shot of what happened on Catelyn's wedding night to the new Lord of Winterfell


Hi guys, I'm having a bit of writers block at the moment, but this popped into my head, so I decided to write it. I have always been interested in Ned and Cat's relationship.

I recently watched Lady Macbeth and as soon as I saw Florence Pugh I knew she would be great for a young Catelyn. As for Ned I think Robert Aramayo was cast perfectly for the role.

Some of the songs that helped me write this:

Skinny Love: Bon Iver

Another Love: Tom Odell

I'm gonna be (500 Miles): Sleeping at Last

Hope you enjoy this!

The Lady of Winterfell

" _Be a good girl, be a better wife and be an honourable Lady of the North and Catelyn remember your damned duty. Family, Duty, Honour, Cat that's all that matters. Love does not come into it, it never does."_. The words had rung in her head like a sept bell, her father's words before he steered her to her new husband. They rang in her head as she was lifted by men she did not know and stripped by unfamiliar hands to be brought before an unfamiliar husband. A husband that she did not know, who looked at her with such contempt, such disappointment. _Love does not come into it, it never does._ No apparently not, but Catelyn had pulled her self together as tightly as her corset was bound around her body, or at least she had until it had been ripped from her, relieving her of any dignity she had held together. As the unfamiliar Lords with their unfamiliar hands laughed drunkenly and jested, tears flowed down Catelyn's cheeks soaking her hair, which earlier had been held so perfectly and delicately with her mother's pins, and now had been reduced to a ragged mess. This wasn't supposed to be how it went. It was supposed to be Brandon taking her to bed, knocking every Lord out of the way who dared even set eyes upon her. It should have been Brandon to wrap that white cloak around her shoulders, Brandon to vow to be hers until the end of his days. But Brandon was dead, and Eddard had taken his place. Eddard Stark, the quiet wolf they called him. He loved another woman, he loved the Dornish woman with the pretty purple eyes, he did not love her, he did not want her, and she did not want him. Hatred coursed through her as she was set down, as naked as her name day before her Lord Husband. She was naked and ashamed. Her hair was a mess, her face red and sopping wet from tears. She stood her arms wrapped about her breasts staring up at the new Lord of Winterfell, still and icy. His facial expression was unreadable. His grey eyes blank looking at her with almost an odd curiosity. Then a Lord laughed out a jest about Catelyn and suddenly Catelyn understood why they called him wolf. All at once four men were unconscious upon the floor and two were held up by their throats against the stony walls. Catelyn cried out in shock, but her Lord Husband ignored her.

"Do you think this is funny?" He growled at the men. "That this bedding ceremony is some kind of joke? That my Lady Wife is some kind of toy for you to terrorise?"

The men pleaded apologies, begged for mercy. "Please, Ned we meant no harm, just following tradition" The man with a portly belly and white beard cried.

Eddard laughed harshly, it was more a bark than a laugh and it sent chills through Catelyn's spine. "I am not Ned anymore Lord Cerwyn. I am your liege _Lord_. The Lord of Winterfell, do you hear me?" He pushed the man's neck, so his bulging eyes were trained on Catelyn. "And this is the _Lady_ of Winterfell, this is the woman who shall bear an heir to Winterfell, this woman shall decide whether your whelps are good enough to marry her children. If you ever speak of this night again with any fondness, any jesting I shall do more than cut off your breath temporarily." He dropped both men and they crumbled like sacks. "Get out of my sight." He spat, and the men staggered away behind the others who were backing swiftly back down the corridor that led to the great hall.

Once they were gone Eddard approached her. Her bent down to retrieve her ripped dress and stared at it for a while. "I am sorry they ripped your dress my Lady, it looked very beautiful on you…. did…. did you make it yourself?"

The question was so unexpected that Cat stammered to answer. "Um…yes…I mean, I made parts of it" She pointed to the embroidery at the front, sapphire thread depicted fish dancing through a river and silver thread to represent the wolves running across its banks.

"I like the wolf part" He whispered softly. His voice was not harsh anymore, in fact it had a comforting warmth to it, despite the harsh northern accent. Involuntarily Catelyn shuddered, and Lord Stark seemed to remember himself and looked around. "We should go inside, you're cold."

Catelyn let out a giggle, it was unnatural and unrecognisable, she had not laughed in a long time. "Well I am slightly cold, but that may be due to the fact that I am not wearing any clothes, whereas you, my Lord, are still dressed."

"They relieved me of my cloak and boots and sword." He offered as he pushed the bedchamber door open.

"Oh" Catelyn scoffed "Such a burden."

The bedchamber had changed since the morning. A fire was lit, the bed sheets were changed, and candles lined the surfaces. It was warm and comfortable, and Cat's nerves seemed to ebb a little. This wouldn't be too bad, she thought, if it was warm and comfortable. Eddard was thinner than Brandon, but still well shaped. His face was younger, his hair lighter, but he was still comely.

"I am sorry, my lady that they stripped you of your finery, it was wrong of them." Eddard was standing next to the fireplace, Catelyn sitting on the bed, comfortable with her nakedness.

"It is tradition" She muttered sourly.

He pushed himself off the wall and walked slowly towards. "Aye, I know, but…well" He blushed in the dim light, it was sweet really. "I wanted to do it, myself, you looked so beautiful in that dress, and your hair. I wanted to take it down, to see what it looked like. You have very nice hair." He trailed off into silence and Catelyn reached up to pull out the last two pins. She had always known her hair was lovely, she had always been vain about it, but for some strange reason she wasn't vain about it tonight. She wanted Eddard to see it, down, pooling around her breasts, soft and fiery. So, he did, as the last pin went tumbling to the floor. Her Lord Husband saw her, in the state that Catelyn had imagined another man would see her, but that man was dead, and she was left with Eddard Stark.

"Do you like my hair like this my Lord?" She whispered staring him boldly in the face.

Eddard Stark gulped and blinked once before reaching out to wind the fibres in his fingers. "Ned…my name is Ned" He whispered and let his soft lips sink into hers.

Her father had been right. There was no love in their consummation. Only duty. Catelyn had lay back on the bed whilst her husband took her maidenhead in one swift motion, but she knew that somewhere in the silent fucking there was a mutual understanding. This time was duty, and maybe the next time, and perhaps the time after that, but down the road in the years to come, love may seep into their skin, into their hearts and consume them. They both knew that one day they would mutter the three words that passed between lovers. But for now, it was duty. They were still grieving for their lost love, their hearts belonged to other people. Eddard's to a woman in the south whose name would haunt Catelyn until the day she died, and Catelyn's heart belonged to another wolf, the wild wolf, the dead wolf.

But as Catelyn sat proudly corseted and perfumed next to her Lord Husband in the hall at breakfast the next day she knew one thing. Family, Duty, Honour were gone. Catelyn Tully was gone, and the woman that replaced her was as strong as Valyrian steel. The woman that replaced her was Catelyn of the House Stark, the _Lady_ of Winterfell, and winter was coming.


End file.
